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Post by Tybalt on Feb 9, 2011 0:19:38 GMT -5
"Not going to stare at the - the seat of my pants anymore?"
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Feb 9, 2011 0:22:05 GMT -5
"We'll be seated-"
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Post by Tybalt on Feb 9, 2011 0:27:12 GMT -5
"In private. In our rooms."
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Feb 9, 2011 0:28:40 GMT -5
"Out-"
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Post by Tybalt on Feb 9, 2011 0:30:06 GMT -5
"I mean in private will you be decent and stop staring at my pants if we go out to lunch?"
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Feb 9, 2011 0:32:41 GMT -5
"No guarantees. The seat of your pants contains something terribly distracting."
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Post by Tybalt on Feb 9, 2011 0:34:17 GMT -5
Tybalt's fingers only stopped twitching after he clenched them.
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Feb 9, 2011 0:35:40 GMT -5
"I'll do my best."
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Post by Tybalt on Feb 9, 2011 0:36:13 GMT -5
"....ohfine."
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Feb 9, 2011 0:40:37 GMT -5
"Oh, good- you could even borrow some of my clothes-"
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Post by Tybalt on Feb 9, 2011 0:42:12 GMT -5
Now Tybalt just looked at him flatly and folded his arms.
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Feb 9, 2011 0:44:11 GMT -5
"I mean- since yours likely smell of unhappiness and liquor."
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Post by Tybalt on Feb 9, 2011 0:47:26 GMT -5
"'Unhappiness' is not a smell," said Tybalt, getting restless and impatient.
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Feb 9, 2011 0:49:50 GMT -5
"I know-"
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Post by Tybalt on Feb 9, 2011 0:51:08 GMT -5
"So my clothes don't smell of unhappiness. And they don't smell of liquor either!"
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